Chapter Two
A/N: This chapter is slightly longer ... It'll get longer ... hopefully
Going to the hospital was a waste of time. Well, it wasn't a complete waste, considering I missed Slughorn's class, but it was a waste none-the-less.
Madam Pomfrey found nothing wrong with me. I, personally, don't think she was looking hard enough. How could nothing be wrong with me? What could explain my reaction in class?
Maybe I was over reacting. It could be possible that my subconscious made me hallucinate to skip Potions? That had to be the explanation. I was quite proud of myself for explaining it so well. What can I say, I am a genius!
To reward myself for my excellence, I decided to head down to the Great Hall early for lunch. After all, a hard working brain needed stimulants. I hoped that fish and chips were on the menu. I really did have a craving for tartar sauce covered grease.
I swaggered into the Great Hall, ready to claim whatever seat my lovely arse decided to sit itself upon, when a wave of disappointment hit me square in the face. First of all, I appeared to have miscalculated, and I was, instead of being early for lunch, quite on time. Second of all, the house elves were not serving fish and chips, but quiche. I hate quiche.
Reluctantly, I half-swaggered towards the Gryffindor table. I scanned the table for three blokes and an empty spot. Much to my surprise I couldn't find what I was looking for.
I paraded along the aisle, ready to jinx whoever was in my seat. Just because I went off to the hospital wing, does not mean they can replace me.
I found my mates seated at the centre of the table. My eyes locked upon my replacement, and my grip tightened around my wand. The lucky person in my seat was James' bookbag. They replaced me with a bookbag! That was it; I was going to show no mercy. If they had replaced me with a bird, I would have understood, but a bookbag. That was unforgivable. That was –
"Oi, Pads," James said with a grin, "I thought you would have been out the whole day. Here, have a seat." He relocated his bookbag to under the bench. I just stared at him. He then started to pat the seat in a seductive manor. I started to feel a tightening sensation in my pants.
"I hate quiche," I said trying to sound casual, "I'm going to do things. I'll see you next class."
I received a blank stare form James, Peter, and Remus (who had pried himself away from his book). I shrugged to show them that it didn't matter, and to shift my robes into an inconspicuous location.
Could my day get any worse?